


Family Squabbles

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Series: Wizardverse [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Gen, Minor Violence, Punishment, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-23 17:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three main deities of the Anatean pantheon are a set of quarrelsome siblings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Squabbles

"Some trickster god you are," Argot sneers at his youngest sibling as he watches the dark-skinned godling float in lazy circles over a deep black scrying pool. “If you wanted all of Akadia to know that  _you_  were the one behind that fight that broke out in the council hall, you certainly succeeded. How could you be so foolish, Tirenni?”

The godling blows a glowing purple spit bubble into the air and giggles happily as it drifts away from her. She then rolls over onto her stomach over the still waters of the scrying pool so that she can shift her blank pink gaze between her older brother’s scowling golden face and the image of the chaos that she had caused. “I just wanted to have some fun,” Tirenni says, forked tongue tripping over the syllables as Argot gives her a nasty look from underneath his long eyelashes. “Acodiel looked so  _bored_ and you were busy worshiping with the pretty concubines in the harem… I only wanted to help.”

A tic starts in Argot’s cheek as the handsome god listens to his flighty sibling prattle on. “Help, Tir,” he bites out through clenched teeth as his crimson eyes start to glow with his frustration and his tail lashes restlessly behind him, “Your damn  _help_  nearly caused the little king to be killed. We need him alive, you damned fool.”

The old god looks more like a god of violence than of sexual pleasure in that moment and Tirenni flinches away from her elder sibling’s ire.

She covers her face with both of her long-fingered hands so that she no longer has to meet Argot’s disappointed gaze and wriggles in place against whatever currents of magic are holding her steady above the pool. “I wasn’t going to  _kill_  anyone,” Tirenni insists as her bottom lip trembles and the scrying pool underneath her starts to ripple. “I would have made everything better, Ar. I swear.” Her voice trembles on the end note and she starts to float higher and higher in the scrying room until she’s almost hitting the low ceiling.

Argot closes one strong hand around Tirenni’s dangling right wrist and hauls her down until they’re at eye level. “You are not running away from me, Tir,” the god growls out, tugging his sibling down even further to stand on bare black feet. He scowls when his sister’s big pink eyes narrow and the sound of rumbling echoes through their holdings. “Not when the little king is injured because of you.”

Tirenni scowls, a rare show of anger taking hold on her round face. Her eyes flash with the force of her anger and she pulls against Argot’s tight hold with all of her strength.  “I am a trickster god,” she hisses as her sharp teeth click together menacingly. “What do you expect me to do? You should be happy that Acodiel was only trampled.” Her hair flashes bright red for a moment as does her skin and then Tirenni wrenches away from her brother’s grip and lifts off into the air. “Besides,  _I_ didn’t hurt him: those silly councilmen did.”

Before Argot can find a way to respond to his sister that doesn’t end in tears and fighting, the sound of footsteps echoes in the hallway outside of the scrying room, coming closer until Shol pushes open the heavy wooden door and strides in with his cloak billowing behind him and his pale white face shining in the light from the pool.

“Don’t stop fighting on my account,” their second eldest sibling says in a raspy voice, “I was enjoying the argument.” Shol smiles. He bares sharp white teeth at his younger siblings as they flinch away from his gaze and gestures for Tirenni to return to the ground with a curt motion of one long arm. “I’m very disappointed with you two.”

Tirenni closes her eyes and bites at her bottom lip hard enough to split the flesh and spill deep purple blood down her chin. “I didn’t kill anyone,” she insists as though that means something. “All I did was make the meeting more entertaining.”

Shol glares at his young sister as she rocks back on her heels. “You could have killed the little king, Tir,” he rumbles in that deep voice that sends chills through her spine. “We’ve told you before: keep him out of your schemes or you will be punished.” His top lip curls. “And you  _will_ be punished for this.”

Argot opens his mouth as though he intends to stand up for his chastised sibling, but one fierce glare from Shol silences him. “And you know better to let our tricksy little sister have free reign of the realm,” he growls in a low tone that promises pain. “Where were you when this happened that you were only able to interfere at the end?”

A nasty flush starts to burn in Argot’s golden cheeks. “Where were  _you_ , brother dear,” the younger god snarls instinctively. “I didn’t see  _you_ coming down to rescue Acodiel from being trampled underfoot.”

“I was doing my job,” Shol says and then he touches the back of his reaching right hand to the plump curve of Tirenni’s cheek. At once, the skin there lightens, turning from black to brown to palest purple. Their sister makes a sound of mingled fear and pain and her eyes slide shut as she grabs for their brother’s thick wrist to pull him away from her skin. “And you should have been doing yours as well. Otherwise, this wouldn’t be happening and I would still be in the underworld.”

Argot watches on in horror as Tirenni starts to shake against their brother’s white body. “You’re hurting her,” he breathes as their sister’s bright pink hair starts to fade to a less brilliant shade and her large eyes roll wildly in her head.

Shol watches impassively as their sister’s essence seeps away. “No, Argot,” he murmurs as he releases Tirenni’s face. She crumples to the ground at their feet, lean body shaking. “I’m punishing her. Two months without her powers should be enough of a warning for her this time.” He turns to look at the scrying pool with an unreadable look on his white face. “The next time either you put the little king in harm’s way again, I won’t be as kind.”

“Kind?” Argot narrows his eyes at his elder sibling before gesturing at where Tirenni sits cowering. “You call this kind?”

“I could shut our tricksy one away,” Shol offers, a frown twisting at his thin lips. “I promised her that and more the next time she led him into danger. Do you forget that she has actively  _tried_  to kill him several times before?” Shol reaches up to rub at the space between his inky black eyes as he remembers all of the little pranks that almost ended in the death of their king. “If I were a crueler god, our little sister would have a permanent room in my home.”

Argot flinches. “You would kill Tir?”

“Of course not,” here Shol frowns down at his shaking sibling. “But if you can’t keep an eye on her in this realm, I will take matters into my own hands.”

“Damn you to hell, brother dear,” Argot snarls, his previous ire with Tirenni long forgotten. He drops down to his knees and gathers his sibling’s body in his arms, tucking her now pale face into the curve of his neck. “Damn you to hell.”

Shol smiles but the expression lacks any mirth. He bows to his younger brother and then gathers up the edges of his cloak. “As you wish, Argot.” He starts to fade into shadow and his voice fades along with him. “As you wish.”

He leaves Argot there with the fragile body of their sister and vanishes off to wherever gods of death go when they fracture their families.

**Author's Note:**

> The gods' designations are as follows: 
> 
> Tirenni is a Trickster god commonly associated with children.
> 
> Argot is the god of desire and life. 
> 
> Shol is the god of death.
> 
> There are other deities in the Anatean pantheon, but they're the main three that get the brunt of the holy days in the incubi empire.


End file.
